Alternative Designations
by SugarcaneSoldier
Summary: A collection of stories based on Harry choosing different names for his children and the circumstances surrounding their choices. Inspired by other people's text posts and my own ideas.
1. To an Unexpected Friend

Muggles swarmed through King's Cross, attempting to reach their trains on time, and generally trying to do what they needed to.

As was tradition – among the Weasleys, anyway – Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Harry were going to the platform the muggle way, to make sure that their children would remember where it was, just in case.

His youngest son, their middle child, seemed apprehensive, but the reassuring smile of his father spurred him on, and he ran towards the barrier, passing quickly into Platform 9 ¾.

The noise decreased in volume, but grew much more varied than the pounding of feet and voices.

People, of course, were talking and moving, but screams of surprise were heard as he and his family walked towards the Hogwarts Express. Grinning, the child turned to face his father, eyes shining inquisitively.

He began, firing off rapid questions. "Dad, now can you tell me? I know you and Mom said that I had to wait until I was older, but I'm older now. Can you tell me the story, please?" The child knew that they had arrived almost an hour early, probably for the exact reason he thought they were: so he could hear The Story.

James had already had it explained to him, but this child had not.

Harry Potter shook his head wistfully, and then motioned to a small restaurant that had popped up a few years after the war. They sat, and Harry looked down at his diminutive son.

Smaller than either of his parents had been at eleven, the young Potter stared up at his dad, hope practically dripping from his face. Unable to resist his son's pleading any longer, Harry Potter began to speak.

"Ford Anglia Potter, you were named after… a car. Not an ordinary car, like the ones that we used to get here or the ones that Muggles use to get around, but a magical car. Your Mother and I haven't really talked about why we gave you that name, not to anyone besides our friends, but… you should know."

And with that introduction, the Boy-Who-Lived launched into his tale, with his child Ford hanging on his every word.

-OxOxO-

Watching Hagrid being taken away had shaken Harry, and his desire to find answers, and subsequently free his friend, had overridden any sense of self-preservation he had. They had taken Hagrid's advice to follow the spiders.

This quickly proved to be a mistake.

Aragog had allowed his family to swarm around them, waves of spiders descending like morbid parodies of angels. The boys had stood, ready to face the onslaught of their inevitable death with heads held high, when light and sound resonated through the spider's hollow.

From the origin of the light and noise, a car came barreling towards the two boys, uncaring of the spiders it crushed beneath its iron… wheels.

Harry, soon followed by Fang and Ron, flung himself into the car, praying that they would be saved.

The car, as wild as it had been when they passed it coming into this cursed place, quickly fought its way out, swerving between the oncoming trees, getting nicked occasionally by a passing branch.

And, as suddenly as it had come to save them, the car stopped, sending its occupants flying into the backs of chairs and windshields. Desperate to escape the nightmare, Fang and Ron sprinted towards Hagrid's Hut. Harry got out slowly, and patted the car.

"Thank you very much."

While turning back around, the car honked. Harry was, understandably, startled.

He turned back around, glaring at it. It merely flashed its lights in response. It turned back towards the forest, when Harry had a thought.

"Would you like me to get you anything from the castle?"

The car stopped, and the cover to its gas tank popped off. Harry scowled, before coming to the conclusion the car had implied.

"You want fuel?"

It honked twice.

Harry thought, and gave an answer. "Well," he began, "I don't know how to get gasoline, but I might be able to find an alternative, or… something. Come back here next week, alright?"

It merely honked twice, and sped off into the forest. Harry shook his head at the sheer insanity of the Wizarding World and followed Ron.

-OxOxO-

In between the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets, his school work, and worrying about Hermione, Harry had somehow managed to find time to filter cooking oil.

Dudley, when he'd been obsessed with cars, had learned a little bit about cars and their fuel.

He had, of course, only liked cars up until he had found out about helicopters, which he had only liked until he'd found something else to gawk at for a week, but his morsel of interest sparked a plethora of toys and books that Harry had sorted through when he'd been 'graciously' given the second bedroom.

It had taken him a bit, but he'd managed to adapt the Water-Making spell to create cooking oil instead – which he could certainly remember from the many times he had had to cook for the Dursleys – and placed it in a bucket.

Sneaking about with his cloak, he had hauled the thing to the spot in the forest where the car had ejected them. He whipped off his cloak, and shouted "I'm here!"

From the dark, looming tree of the Forbidden Forest emerged the car. It stopped, parked, and popped its trunk. Briefly confused, Harry found a funnel, apparently used for refueling the car.

He hooked it up and poured the bucket of cooking oil into the tank.

The car seemed to change, slightly. The engine no longer sounded labored, and it appeared to, subtly, right itself so that it wasn't sagging close to the ground.

Once the bucket emptied, the car honked twice, and closed its trunk. It began to roll away. Standing there it the cold, Harry thought to ask one more question as it left. "When should I bring more?"

The car, still rolling towards the forest, honked three times. Harry called out again, "In three weeks?" It continued on, but Harry thought he could make out its lights flash.

Resolved to help the thing that had saved him, he marched back to the school, where his warm, three poster bed called.

-OxOxO-

Harry sighed. It was his last day of school. With Tom Riddle dealt with and Hermione safe again, there was just one last thing he had to do.

Rays of the setting sun hitting the top of the tree near his hut, Harry knocked on Hagrid's door. The giant immediately opened it. A smile overcame his heavily bearded face as he saw who had come to meet him. "Harry! I thought you'd have been packing by now?"

Harry smiled, and stepped inside. He hadn't mentioned Aragog's attempt to eat him and Ron, as he didn't want Hagrid to feel upset with his arachnid friend.

He spoke softly as he looked at the half-giant. "Well, Hagrid, I already packed, and wanted to ask you a favor." Hagrid nodded in understanding. Harry continued with a small inhalation, "You remember the car that Ron and I rode to Hogwarts in? Well… I have been fueling it, and I wondered if you would fuel it while I was gone." Harry looked up at Hagrid, hope plain on his face.

Hagrid, with a booming laugh, agreed. "Of course, Harry. Tell me what I need to do."

And Harry explained what he wanted to happen.

-OxOxO-

When running for your life, the oddest thoughts often struck you.

Harry was, once again, at the edge of the forest. It had been hard. Harder than last year, with the addition of the Dementors, but he had taken over from Hagrid in refueling the car. He had, after research with Hermione, found a way to make spells. Another month of work had seen him able to produce gasoline at will.

The Dementors were beginning to press in from all sides, when a familiar sound breached the cold, clawing sensations of the darkest memories in his body. A horn.

The Dementors were pushed away, first by the car, which was flying through the air again, and then by a brilliant Patronus.

Harry blacked out, but not before catching sight of someone – his father? – standing close to the Patronus and the car.

-OxOxO-

They had traveled back in time.

Magic had, once again, proven to be amazing, as a bauble-like hourglass around Hermione's neck had taken them back in time.

They were having trouble with getting Buckbeak moving, when the car suddenly began making a commotion, flying towards the hippogriff. Startled, Buckbeak fled into the forest, dragging the two students with it.

Harry let go of Buckbeak, and rolled to a stop. The car caught up with him, and Harry smiled fondly. Remembering what had happened – what was going to happen? – he spoke, before it could leave. "Wait, could you come with us? I might need your help.

The car acquiesced, and followed the two. They witnessed Pettigrew's escape, and rushed over to Hagrid's house to hide from the werewolf. They then hurried over to the lake.

He saw himself, and Sirius, being attacked by the Dementors. The car immediately rushed out to try to battle the beings, but only a few were being battered. With a start, he realized that it had been him, standing there, across the lake, and jumped out from behind the bushes.

"Expecto Patronum!"

A stag, the form of his father, burst forth, and started to beat back the guards of Azkaban.

Looking at the castle, Hermione spotted the executioner, scurrying away from the castle. They worried about what to do, when Harry had an idea. Turning towards the car, Harry asked it a question. "How would you like a vacation?"

-OxOxO-

Content, Harry sat in the compartment of the Hogwarts Express, simply feeling the motion of the train. Sirius had sent a letter, informing them of his whereabouts and confirming that he was, indeed, taking his role as caretaker of the car seriously.

Harry smiled, leaned back in his seat, and thought about being with his godfather.

Who knew? Sirius had stated that it was almost as good as some motorcycle he had had, before being locked up, and he wanted to see if he could tinker with the car as well.

-OxOxO-

He ran, thoughts whirling about his head like fat flies, chasing after the Death Eaters who had infiltrated Hogwarts and killed Dumbledore. They were trying to flee, out into the forest and beyond the wards. He put more into his running, desperately trying to catch them.

The Death Eaters had reached Hagrid's hut, and were laughing. He quickly realized what they were going to do, but it was too late; Hagrid's Hut burned.

Livid, he continued running, and saw a lone figure standing apart from the revelry.

His greasy, dark hair and posture gave him away, and Harry attempted to attack him. Snape had, unfortunately, turned. He shielded, and began to stalk forward, batting aside all of Harry's attempts at harming him. His wand was halfway through the motion of a Disarming Charm, when the oddest thing occured.

Snape lost his concentration.

No one would fault Snape for his error due to the cause. The cause of his lapse was, in fact, the car that had slammed into his side.

Rather comically, Snape flew through the air, tumbling end over end towards the Forbidden Forest. He landed with a crash and a crack, evidence of his breaking a bone or five on landing.

Harry started after him, but the car had a different idea. A door popped open, pointing towards Hagrid's Hut, where the Death Eaters were splitting up, some running towards him, and others towards Snape.

He grimaced, but Harry climbed into the car, allowing it to transport him to the castle. He wasn't happy, but Snape had almost had him at his mercy, and for that reason, he was also thankful.

As the car let him out, he spoke quietly to it. "I don't think I am going to come back next year, so, in case I… die, I wanted to thank you. You have been a huge help, and I will be in your debt because of it."

Harry smiled wanly, and the car merely blinked its lights before speeding off into the forest.

He sighed, and strode into the castle. He had to meet with Ron and Hermione. They needed to plan.

-OxOxO-

It was quiet. From the sound of Bellatrix, Voldemort had fallen over after striking him with the curse the color of his eyes.

He was perfectly still, hoping that he wouldn't be discovered. He heard him speaking Parseltongue, but he didn't understand it. Not entirely unsurprising. He could hear it slithering, when it stopped.

Narcissa had asked after her son, and he had spoken truthfully. Apparently overjoyed, she had played the game he had wanted her to.

Sounds now erupted. Joyous celebration from the Death Eaters. They set off loud noises and lights, which flashed behind Harry's eyelids. Harry himself was concentrating, because he heard something through the celebration.

The sound of a horn.

He opened his eyes enough to see through his eye lashes, and was confused, as he couldn't hear the car running over branches or see it.

The car, flying through the air and invisible, slammed into Voldemort's body. The snake coiled around his chest protectively was killed instantly.

The Death Eaters quieted instantly, and watched as their leader flew through the air, hit the ground with a crunch, and rolled to a stop in front of Harry Potter. Said wizard, thought to be dead, jumped up.

"Confringo!"

And Voldemort, simultaneously trying to cling to life and understand what the hell just happened, lost his head.

The Death Eaters, understandably shocked, stood there. Harry, who was just as shocked as they were but was also used to the car's desire to protect him, grabbed the body of his enemy, and jumped in the car.

Speeding away towards Hogwarts, Harry was elated, and thanking the car profusely for helping destroy his mortal enemy. The Death Eaters, at least, those who hadn't apparated away after recovering, were not. These were Voldemort's most loyal, and they were chasing after the car.

Finally done thanking the car, Harry asked a question. "Do you want me to tell them what happened, or…"

The car let out a long honk, signaling that no, it didn't want the hassle of being the first car to help defeat a Dark Lord, thank you very much. Really, it didn't know how Harry had adapted to being famous.

Harry's smile, which now split his face, didn't diminish. "That's fine. I'll just concoct a story about our wands or some fairy tale or something."

They rolled towards Hogwarts, and Harry felt free.

-OxOxO-

Ford, engrossed in his story, didn't notice the whistle of the train until his father rose from his seat. Startled, he looked at his dad as he began to push his son's truck. Turning, the Boy-Who-Lived said, reminiscent smile on his face, "Well? Are you going or not?"

Ford rushed out of his seat, and began to ask questions, black shoulder-length hair bouncing all the while. "Who knows? Can I talk to people about it? What does the car look like? Can I meet it?"

Harry crouched down, put his hands on his son's shoulder, and stared into the wide, brown eyes of his son. "Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Dumbledore's portrait, and Hagrid, please don't, blue with scratches all over it, and you probably will, if you're anything like James."

He hoisted his son's trunk onto the train, lifted his son up, and placed him on the train as well. Ford, now eye to eye with his crouching father, said "Goodbye, Dad!" Harry hugged him, and began to wave as the Express pulled out of the station.

-OxOxO-

Cool!

That was what Ford Anglia Potter had thought as he had listened to his father's story.

He had suppressed the urge to tell any of his cousins as he walked the length of the train, entering a compartment at random.

A few people had come in, occasionally to ask for directions, sometimes to gawk at him, but none sat down. Deciding to get a bit of shut eye, Ford settled in.

-OxOxO-

Crash!

A loud noise jolted him out of his sleep, and Ford looked around. Outside his compartment, someone's Gobstones set had fallen apart.

Miffed about being woken up, he looked out of the Hogwarts Express at the passing Scottish countryside. As he looked out, staring uninterestedly, something caught his attention.

From behind the train, a car was approaching, flying towards it. His mouth fell open in shock at the sight of his namesake as it passed by. He leaned closer to the window, hoping to catch another glimpse of it before it left his view.

It rocketed backwards, and was suddenly outside his window, cruising along, his father at the wheel. Slightly incredulous, Ford rolled down his window. Over the sound of rushing air, he could make out what his father said. "Have a great year at Hogwarts, Ford!"

Grinning madly, he shouted back, "I will, dad! See you later!"

Harry, driving the car, waved to his son, and pulled away from the express, invisibly speeding off into the countryside.

-OxOxO-

A/N: Credit for this idea goes to the tumblr post mxcleod made, as well as kat2kool

There will be plenty more to come, based both on my own ideas and the ideas of others. See you then, and make sure to comment, if you've got any ideas.


	2. To Fantastic Friends

As Harry was carried away from the centaurs, he began to look back on his memories of his half-giant friend.

He had been ready to support him, regardless of the task, for many, many years. First year, he had thought to show them his dragon, and had helped them solve the various mysteries of his first few years of Hogwarts. He had even rescued him from the Dursleys, on his eleventh birthday so long away.

And now. He had scolded the tall, imposing centaurs, and was carrying him back to Hogwarts.

He resolved himself. When he beat Voldemort, which he would, he was gong to name one of his kids after Hagrid. Why wouldn't he, after so many years of steadfast friendship?

-OxOxO-

Hagrid set him, as gentle as he was about anything, on the ground. Voldemort gave his speech, waxing on about how he would forgive everyone, if only they joined his side.

He almost snorted from incredulity. Harry thought that the bastard would just kill the converts as soon as he had crushed any resistance that was offered to him.

Harry had been still, but Neville was under Voldemort's spell and was unable to move. He leapt to his feet as a sound rebounded through Hogwarts. A familiar sound.

The sound of a dragon.

While he hid underneath his cloak, he looked high up into the sky, and witnessed something he didn't think could happen, not based on what he had learned and been told.

Dozens of people. Riding dragons.

Those he recognized – a Hungarian Horntail, some Norwegian Ridgebacks – flew alongside other he didn't, and began to rain fire and acid down on the conveniently congregated forces of the Dark Lord.

They didn't last long.

Some had apparated away, but others had tried, in vain, to shield themselves.

Their shields, in the case of Bellatrix, managed to last seven seconds before giving way to the burning fire that so outshined the Dragon Pox that was named for it. Some of the Death Eaters on the edge of the group had managed to desperately leap away and shield themselves in time.

Voldemort had done just that. He got wounded, but was, once again, free to attempt to destroy the Potter brat. He was stunned, suddenly, as Nagini had just been killed by Longbottom.

He whirled around, looking for his prophesied enemy, and saw him taking off his Invisibility Cloak.

He didn't speak, too furious in the face of the loss of a majority of his forces. They would take months to replenish, and he no longer had the time or resources to grandstand. He cast his infamous curse, hoping to end his duel with Harry Potter early. His enemy responded in kind.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

And Voldemort was gone. The body of Tom Riddle, the shriveled white husk that it was, crumpled to the ground.

They had won, and, with the help of Charlie Weasley, had destroyed most of his forces.

-OxOxO-

They had, after a few years of dating, married.

Harry had felt like the fighting was worth something, standing there, watching Ginny walking towards him, the embodiment of radiance.

Later, they had had children.

First, a boy, which they named after Harry's father, and later, a daughter, which they had named after his mother.

Then, unexpectedly, they had a third child, a little girl.

Both had been at a loss of what to call the girl, when Harry, when visiting Hagrid one midsummer afternoon, remembered what he had promised himself, those years ago.

While thinking about that promise, he had also remembered how Charlie 'Dragon Tamer' Weasley had rode in atop Norberta.

He had, after flying them back to the recently established Scottish Dragon Reserve, regaled upon them the story of convincing the ferocious dragon to save Hagrid.

After cleaning up, Hagrid had been taken to the sanctuary, where he reunited with her. She had been... just as ferocious as when she was a hatchling, but she did remember the one who'd hatched her.

Smiling, Harry thanked the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, and made to leave, declaring that he had a surprise for him later.

After leaving Hogwarts, he apparated home, and yelled into the house. "Ginny? I thought of a name!" Ginny Weasley, fire undiminished by age, walked over to him. Smiling amusedly, Ginny stated, "You were just at Hagrid's, dear. If you suggest we name our daughter Hagrid, I will not be responsible for the consequences."

She looked expectantly at Harry, whose face had frozen.

That had been his plan, and he didn't think she would appreciate Rubeus anymore that Hagrid, but there must have been some way to honor his friend. Thinking, he tried to come up with a name.

Rubeus, Rube, Ruby! Now, middle name. Charlie… Charlotte! Grinning triumphantly, he looked at his wife, who had arched an eyebrow while waiting for him to come up with an excuse.

"Of course not, dear, I wouldn't resign our daughter to a name like that." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, and said "I never told you, but, when he carried me back from being killed, I promised myself to name a child after him. So, I think we should call her Ruby Charlotte Potter!"

Despite his height, she seemed to stare down at him, he wilted, and tried to justify himself. "Well, you know, it's a more original name than just naming her after our friends, and I get to fulfill my silent promise. Everyone is happy. Right?" He looked at her, and, in that moment, greatly resembled a kicked puppy.

Ginny sighed, considering the name, weighing her options. It would do, and they didn't really have a better option. She smiled, and said "Nice save, Potter."

She began to walk away, and Harry sighed in relief. From the other room, he heard her call out.

"And if you ever think about giving one of our children such a terrible name as Hagrid, then you won't need to worry about needing to name more."

Wincing, he trudged over to the dining room, ready to apologize.

-OxOxO-

When he had told Charlie, he had thanked Harry, saying that he felt honored. Due to his relative isolation, he hadn't expected to have been named godfather of anyone, much less Harry's child.

When Harry had told Hagrid, he had almost been crushed to death. He had asked to come over, and had cooed over Ruby, telling her all about the things he would show the little tyke when he was her teacher.

As the years went on, her name was quickly judged to have been well picked.

She had inherited her namesake's love of magical beasts and dragons, as well as Harry's rather lackluster sense of self-preservation.

Her namesakes had done everything they could to get her interested in them, and, once they heard about the reasoning behind her name, Luna and Rolf Scamander had helped.

She had been enamored with the little hippogriffs that adorned her mobile and had loved staring at the Mural of Beasts that Luna had painted on her wall.

The little hellion had also, somehow, managed to inherit some part of Harry's Parseltongue abilities, as she had understood her father when he was questioning some snakes he had set to guard his property.

Ginny and Harry worried about her constantly, but they presumed that, with time, she might calm down, just a little bit.

She hadn't.

At ten, she had snatched some galleons from her parents and proceeded to owl-order a few things from the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley.

One of which happened to be Ashwinder eggs, which proceeded to hatch and burn down a large portion of the shed she used to house her work.

She was devastated, and had been sullen throughout their trip to King's Cross station.

While Ginny said goodbye to James and Lily, he quickly turned to his youngest, and uttered words that he knew his wife wouldn't approve of.

"I know what will cheer you up. Some more information about the forbidden forest. How does that sound?" She sniffed in response, and looked up at him pathetically.

He talked quickly, keeping his voice down, "You will ask Hagrid, but in the forest is a colony of Acromantulas." He looked around conspiratorially, before continuing, "We can, if you want, go there in a year or two."

A small bit of sadness in her voice, she asked him if he would promise. He snorted, and said "Of course I will, Ruby."

Her demeanor shifted, and Harry realized that he had been had. Now grinning mischievously, she said "Thank you, dad. I knew burning down that shed would be worth it. See you in a few months!"

He acted upset, but he couldn't be. Not with her. He waved to her as she got on the train, and was happy about making his youngest happy again. Until, of course, his wife cleared her throat directly behind him.

Whimpering, Harry turned around and submitted himself to a patented Weasley Scolding.

-OxOxO-

A/N: Credit goes to somepotternerd for the idea, as well as another text post from tumblr that I can't find.

I hope you enjoyed, please leave a comment, and I'll see you in the next one.


	3. To Living Friends

Harry grumbled as he walked down Diagon Alley, a long hood protecting his face. He just didn't get it. Really, why shouldn't he do it?

Ginny had been… unsupportive when he mentioned his latest attempt at a name for their second child. Harry couldn't see it, though. He just wanted to honor the two bravest people he had known, two people who didn't have family of their own to do the same.

What was wrong with that?

He was walking to where he knew Ron would be this late in the afternoon. Opening the door to the shop he had helped start, he paused briefly to marvel at the interior of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. George appeared to be locking up the shop, and was surprised to see him.

"Hello, George." He greeted, turning back to the shop's owner. His tie, probably a joke product itself, was undone, and he seemed to be relaxed.

"Hey, Harry. Ron's in the back," he replied.

Harry nodded, and worked his way around the piles of joke products towards the back. Some of the older, more reliable products resided here, as well as a suspiciously blank patch of wall that was shaped like a doorway.

Standing to the right of the suspicious spot, he clearly spoke "We solemnly swear we are up to no good."

The wall rushed forward, sure to maim anyone who had said the password while standing in front of it. Stepping behind the removed wall, Harry ducked into the 'offices' of WWW.

That was with quotation marks, mind you.

There were no cubicles or long, intimidating desks like the offices of the Muggle world, but papers that flew overhead, suspended with magic and called over to the workshop with a vocal command. Currently in said workshop was Ron, attempting to screw together some pieces of… something. With a flick of his wand, Harry put it together.

Startled, Ron jerked up, wand in hand. He relaxed when he saw Harry. Smiling, he said, "Thanks, Auror Potter. You've just finished the last sample of our latest product."

He held up the piece of… well, it looked like a rather comical mishmash of Muggle dolls and figurines. "Feast your eyes on the Mini Metamorphmagus. Simply describe what you want it to look like, or say a pre-installed name, and you have yourself a personal pipsqueak person. For example: Harry Potter."

The doll twitched, and began to shift, shrinking slightly, hair changing from blond to jet-black, and clothes shifting to look like an Auror cloak.

It began to pick itself up, until it stood. Fascinated, Harry poked the model while asking, "Ron, how did you come up with this?"

Proudly, he began to explain. "Well, the idea was from you, actually. You were talking about the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and got to the part about the mini-dragon. I wrote it down, and, through blood, sweat, and a surprising number of Muggle toy stores, we've finished it."

He nodded through his explanation, pocketing the toy. He smiled, and got to why he had come here. "Ron, mate, I wanted to ask you a question. Do you think that-" he was cut off, as the door opened again, and a yell of surprise was heard before an impact.

Curious, the two friends walked out, looking at the figure rolling on the ground, clutching his face.

Neville, still wearing Dragon hide gloves from teaching Herbology, had never come in before. Both were staring down at him, amused.

Swearing, he yelled, "By Merlin's Beard, would you two help me up already?"

He sulked as they helped him up. "George told you to say 'I' instead of 'We,' right?" they asked.

"What gave it away?" he asked as he rolled his eyes.

They deadpanned. "Yes, actually. If you had used 'We' and stood in front of it, you would have been launched through the walls and back into Diagon Alley."

"Ah."

"What did you want Neville? You don't usually leave Hogwarts in the middle of the week, what gives?" Harry was concerned and, if his guess was right, growing fearful.

He glanced at Harry, and began to explain. "Well, it turns out that Ginny Floo called me, and said 'He is going to commit a travesty, and he's getting Ron in on it first.' What was she talking about?"

Sheepish, Harry said demurely, "Well, I want to name our second child Albus Severus Potter."

They both blinked, still for a second. Neville's face then began to twist, into a very unflattering concoction of confusion and anger. "Why on earth would you do that?" Ron, compared to Neville, seemed more accepting, waiting to hear Harry's reasoning.

He ran a hand through his hair nervously. "Well, you know, they were the bravest men I knew, and-"

In that moment, Neville seemed to have gone to the Vernon Dursley School of Anger, since his face was certainly purple enough for it.

"What about us!?" Ron was looking decidedly less happy with that as his reasoning, mumbling "What are we, roast chicken?"

"Did you die though?"

Ron was, apparently, reconsidering. They hadn't died for his friend. Neville was not. "First of all, Potter, we would have, and you would have felt much worse about us dying than an old fool and a bully. Second of all, how would you feel about having to live up to, not only Harry Potter, but also Dumbledore and Snape? I don't care if you think it won't be that way, he will be a child and he will."

Harry was miffed, and the words came tumbling out of his mouth without thought. "Like you would know about having to live… up to… someone's expectations…"

He suddenly looked down, realizing his mistake.

Right.

Neville's grandmother had always tried to compare him to her son.

Looking up at his friends, Neville looked like he might actually burst, and Ron looked like he would rather this have been done anywhere else.

Harry began to apologize profusely, while trying to edge closer to the emergency exit window. "Okay, fine, you're right, you're right, I'm sorry."

Neville grabbed his wand, and Harry jumped out of the window, breaking it. He fixed it a moment later, and transfigured it into thick iron. It exploded a moment later, and Neville jumped out.

Neville began chasing the fleeing figure that had darted into the Leaky Cauldron.

Neville spied him trying to look inconspicuous, and whirled him around.

Two buttons stared at him, and the Mini Metamorphmagus shrank. Neville sighed, and stalked back to Ron's workshop with the doll in tow. He'd get him later…

-OxOxO-

Harry had been… reconsidering. Maybe using those names wouldn't be a good idea. But what could he name his kid now?

Thinking back to that argument, he remembered something Neville had said.

"What about us!?"

Smiling, he got up from the spot in the Forest of Dean where he had come to think, and apparated home.

Walking in, he smiled weakly at Ginny. "I thought about it, and have come to realize that naming my child after two famous martyrs is not a good idea."

She raised an eyebrow.

Swallowing, he continued. "I even came up with another name. How does Ronald Neville Potter sound?" He screwed his eyes shut, waiting for someone to start shouting.

"Fine."

He sighed in relief, and sat down in a chair by his fireplace, thankful that he wasn't dead. As he made to sit down, he noticed a doll in his chair.

It held a surprising likeness of Neville.

Dread overcoming him, he turned, and in the other chair sat Neville, smirking at him

Harry gulped.

Maybe he could still crawl back to Ginny and ask her to kill him before Longbottom began.

Probably not.

At least they had agreed on a name.

-OxOxO-

A/N: Credit to hungerfaerie for this one. This is the last of the backlog, and while I have more ideas, I won't be writing until the urge strike me.

Anyway, tell me what you thought of it in the comments, and read on, if it's been updated.


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